No hope
by Lilimayhem
Summary: B/V.The earth is gone.Years later Bulma is found by Scavengers working for Frieza.Knowing what she is,he turns her into his DeathMaker.Tyam,the last Saiya-jins and Bounty-hunter,is given the job to eliminate this new threat in a universe alreary in chaos
1. The end of hope, part 1

_**Disclaimer: DBZ does not belong to me...obviously, not making any money...OBVIOUSLY!**_

_**This chapter may look a bit long and without any real actions but fear not...it's only the first one.**_

_**No hope**_

_**Chapter 1**_

"Bulma honey, we don't have time. There is simply too…" he was interrupter by his daughter's fuming red face.

"Don't you 'Bulma honey' me, Dad!" Her voice was clenched and angry as she took a second to look at the radar screen. "There is always a solution and with the two of us there is no way" her voice wavered "I mean, we'll find a solution, we have too! Dad I won't leave Earth without you and mom!"

She stopped unable to go on, her face no longer angry but traced with an undeniable heart wrenching sadness, her voice frail and tremulous as she went on. "How can you even ask me to do a thing like that?"

She looked at her father when he didn't answer her; his brows were drawn together with pain as he stared at her. There was no way of knowing what thoughts crossed his mind as he looked at her but, it was evident that he was keeping the standing tears in his clear blue eyes from falling with all his might, his lips set in a thigh quavering line. He looked so vulnerable and miserable that Bulma lost her own battle with her tears. She soon felt arms around her as Dr Brief took her into his arms with a broken cry, hugging her fiercely as if trying to show her all the love and pride he felt for his only child. Feeling her father's shoulder beginning to shake Bulma hugged him even tighter, feeling an inconspicuous oppressive ball of misery forming itself in her throat. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she let the feelings she had so valiantly fought submerge her. Pain, sadness, love, anger so much anger, for her heart. But she let it all go, letting the emotions wash on her mind and soul. Just this once, she wasn't weak, but just this once she wanted to be able to grieve for all the human lives that would soon cease to be. For all the cities that would never rise again. She wanted to be able to feel the despair and desolation she had kept at bay for so long, for as long as the Emperor had first made his intentions known to the unsuspecting humans. Just this once, she wanted to be able to forget herself in the misery she knew her heart had never stopped feeling. She also wanted to help her father. To help him forget the huge responsibilities that were set on his shoulders by the governments of Earth, turning him into poor Atlas doomed by Zeus, God of the gods, to hold the world on his shoulders for all eternity. She wanted to give him a peace she knew he had lost when the Emperor's ship had entered Earth's solar system. She wanted to help him forget about all the faces that had looked up to him in a blind faith, a faith that had kept him awake for many days and nights when he would not allow a trivial thing, and not to mention complete waste of time, like sleep to rule over his body. Even _he_ had come up with nothing.

Sure there were many a machines they had thought about, shields and weapons that would have solved their problem in a blink of an eye, but there were simply too many problems. First, they lacked time, and more importantly, if the Emperor was so adamant to see them dead that he'd choose to destroy a planet as rich as Earth, then certainly nothing would have stood in his way. How could humanity be safe in an empire that no longer accepted them? Furthermore, how could one kill the Emperor of the known universe? Even if they achieved the impossible and killed Emperor Cold, the Counsel of Planets, who had grown rich under the Tsiru-jins rule, would not have remained idle with their arms crossed, punitive action against Earth would have soon followed. There was nothing they could do, and that single thought ate at their souls and hearts, the situation was helpless, they could not escape the Emperor this easily. He wanted them dead and there was nothing that could stop the most powerful being in the universe to achieve his goal.

How can one sit back and let the end come without at least trying? The Brief family certainly couldn't.

So, for the first time since the arrival of the Emperor in their solar system, the infamous Bulma and her father Dr Brief, the most brilliant minds of Earth, broke down and cried, all the while hugging each other, letting their mutual fear, pain and anger, wash over them like a heavy wool blanket, surrounding them, uniting them in their misery.


	2. The end of hope, part 2

"He did it!" Bulma couldn't believe it. Knowing she'd never agree to leave the planet without them, her father had actually drugged her and packed her up in the space ship they had worked so hard on. He had done what he had wanted her to do ever since that god damned Emperor had arrived. He had wanted her to survive, to leave Earth and keep on living, saying she was the only one who could be able to do it, the only one who could survive. Her face crumbled and her lower lips began to tremble as tears fell from closed eyelids. Pained moans escaped her mouth as she began to crawl toward the navigation console, thinking sluggishly that he must have had given her too much drug because her body felt ten times heavier then normal. Tears fell on the metallic floor as she desperately tried to reach the navigation console before it was too late. She had to save her parents. She had to go back! As her arms trembled with the effort to raise her from the cold floor, Bulma took at last her first glance at the beginning of the end. "Oh dear God, no!"

There was no time to do anything. There was no hope. Now that she was confronted with the truth, there could be no more denying. Her world lay still intact in front of her, but for how long?

The young blue haired woman stood unblinking, unmoving, numb, as she watched the last of the Emperor's combat fleet retire from their position from all around the globe. Blue eyes following the soon disappearing residue of hyper speed as each one of the combat ships vanished into the darkness of space. With her heart beating wildly, the earthling looked on as the last ship flew from view in a burst of hyper speed, leaving only the Imperial ship behind, emperor Cold's ship.

Her heart to her throat, Bulma's whole body trembled as she glued her gaze to the last and most impressive ship of all the fleet. She knew the meaning; it was her world's last minute before total annihilation.

Glancing at the Emperor's silver and red ship, Bulma thought for a second to close the ship's shield to expose herself to the cunning radar of the Imperial Ship, and thus ending her private misery to share her race's fate. But the face of her father came to her mind, the pride and hope she had seen shinning in the same blue eyes as her, stilled her hand as it reached the shield's control. The sight of her father and his aides as they worked feverishly to complete their small, perfect Starship, the ship that would allow Earth's memory to survive in the tides of time, made her retract her hand shamefully. A phrase her father had spoken to her, while trying unsuccessfully to convince her to take the Starship echoed in her mind:

"Of all the Earthlings, you, daughter, will find a way to survive. Through you we will keep on living, you are Earth's most precious gem, live daughter dearest, live! That is why you must leave the planet."

Tearing her eyes from the executioner, Bulma tried to take in as much of her world as she could before the coming end. The perfect blue of the ocean, the swirl of white clouds and the brown continents where millions upon millions still breathed and lived.

Tears drenched her face as the end finally began; a beam of pure white erupting from one of the ship's weapons punctured the world below. A soul-wrenching moan spilt from her lips as she saw the atmosphere turn from lively blue to deadly dark, signalling the end of all life. Like that, in a second, 7 billion hearts were turned into nothing, never to beat ever again; thus was the power wielded by the emperor. Bulma felt a part of herself die with her brothers and sisters, her soul felt suddenly dead and empty, she felt as if all life had been drained out of her.

A tiny part of her had held on for dear life on a shinning hope, a hope that something would happen, that the Emperor would change his mind, that a meteor would crash into the imperial ship; anything to prevent this from happening. She had not truly believed in the end of her world, it was an unfathomable reality that was beyond her mind. But now as she saw it with her own eyes, there could be no more denying, no more hope, it was happening.

The beam stopped, and the young woman watched through a veil of tears as the ship left the solar system, leaving the heated core to explode on its own.

A crying Bulma, knowing she had to flee herself from the dying world, sent a final adieu to her loved ones, her voice transformed by a well of grief so deep it knew no bottom.

"Papa…Oh…Papa" Her voice wavered to silence clenched by pain. "Mama, my…dear, dear mama…I love you!"

A thick, protective sheet of Urathium steel began its descent on the space window as her trembling finger pressed its activation button. With sobs now convulsing her body, she slowly sat back in the pilot seat barely seeing her trembling hands as they fasten the seat belt. She moved with the slowness of being completely heartbroken, her heart overwhelmed by a psychological pain so deep and powerful that even if a part of her knew she had to act, to flee before the explosion of the core, she couldn't bring herself to move faster. Moving without the will to do so.

The computer's shrill alarm told her there could be no more hope of escaping the incommensurable force of Earth's explosion, and in a way she was glad, let faith decide if she was to survive or not. With no hope in her heart, and devastated, she did the only thing she could do; she pushed the shield to maximum and sent a prayer to her recently deceased family.

The radar and computer warning her that the core had finally exploded and that the backlash wave was coming at her full force interrupted her small prayer. Bulma could only shut her eyes tightly and brace herself as the ship was rocked as if standing amidst a cyclone or assaulted by a tsunami's anger. Bulma began feeling faint, as if her mind was suddenly plagued by a black hole, everything alive inside was being sucked into an endless darkness. Her emotionally overloaded brain had finally reached its limit, and as it went to overdrive, Bulma gladly lost it, plunging head first into the whirlpool of nothing and. She knew no more.

She had to wake. There was something needing her immediate attention, she could feel it, she could almost hear it, an annoying, recurring noise on the frontier of her conscious hearing. Without really wanting, she let the noise in, knowing it wouldn't go away with her ignoring it. Ah, there it was, a loud beeping. Her damn alarm clock probably. A sigh escaped her lips as the last vestige of sleep began evaporating, extending her arm to the bedside table on her left, she tried to shut it off. A frown graced her eyebrows when her hand caught only air. Where was that damn table? Upon opening her eyes, reality came crashing in. The beeping wasn't her alarm clock, if only it were that, it was the ship's alarm! Something was wrong. Bulma felt a wave of dark emotions raise in her mind but she managed to push it back to where it came from knowing she had to concentrate on the pressing matter at hand. She focused her blue eyes, examining the numerous consoles and computers, fingers flying over the keyboard, trying to access the source of the alarm.

Her eyes were tiny slits as she read the system diagnostic paper in her hand; the shield was off. Not only off, but also completely unresponsive and would remain so without repair. Its reactor had completely fried due to the force of the backlash. Luckily the shield had held on for the duration of the energy wave, but its delicate circuitry and wires hadn't been able to manage and safely process the energy overload.

Shutting off the now annoying alarm, Bulma unfastened her seat belt and went to grab her tool capsule. She had to fix, it she couldn't go on in space without a shield, how long would she last without it? She'd fix it and after…after "_After what?"_ What was she suppose to do now that her home world…now that her home world was … gone. Her lips began to tremble uncontrollably as the truth she had managed to keep at bay for a little while threatened to pour out its insanity on her already fragile soul, her beautiful features were soon transformed by grief and pain. She was alone, oh god she was completely alone, the last… her world was… Bulma grasped her head with both hands with a pained yell as she physically tried to contain the tidal wave of pain that wanted to wash on her sanity, to crush her under its weight. By the sheer force of her will, the last Earthling pushed all the pain, memories and feelings aside. She would not think about it, not now. She could not think about it! Not now! Later, later she promised herself. Later would see her drowned in an ocean of sorrow. But not now, now she was going to repair the shield reactor and survive this. With her will dipped in strong Urathium and her mind on the brink of pain driven insanity, Bulma went to the machinery room.

Silence reigned in the small ship, not a noise was heard, and even the delicate hum of the machinery had fallen silent. Nothing stirred, it seemed as if time had lost all power, like life itself had forever stilled. Almost all lights were off, plunging the ship's interior in near darkness. The only lights visible were the lights of the several computers and consoles casting a soft yellow light, tingeing all edges in dim sunlight like glow.

In the pilot seat sat an immobile Bulma, her frozen face cast in a veil of yellow glow. Now that the necessity to act was over, now that everything that could be done was done, she had sat in her chair and as if a spell had fallen on her, had not moved since. Barely breathing not even blinking. Her mind was blank. Her grief was so intense that her mind had simply shut down, leaving only the automatic functions on. Her tool case lay in disarray beside her; she had not even taken the time to encapsulate it, what was the point anyway? The shield circuitry had not only fried, the reactor had also melted under the sheer amount of heated energy to process, and Bulma had faintly wondered how come it had managed to hold on during the backlash wave. Her father had a hand in that, of that, she was convinced. Circuitry she could repair but, building another reactor, it was impossible without the necessary parts. She was a genius yes, but not a wizard. She could not make spare parts appear out of thin air, so she simply gave up, she couldn't fix the reactor, and without a shield she was doomed. What was the point of building the ship and putting her in it if she was going to die in space without a proper shield to protect her? Maybe fate was being cruel, placing her in the front row seat to witness her planet's destruction, to leave her to die in the vastness of space afterward. She had dropped her tools on the ground beside her seat and sat in it, to remain there unable to react, to think, lost in the throes of a catatonic state

It was in the pilot seat that she found herself, when an insidious thought slowly began making its way up through her tar-like consciousness. When the idea bubbled to the surface of her mind, she blinked, reluctantly returning to a semblance of life. There was something she could do, something her father had place in the ship, just in case, to be used just in case. Bulma stood up in a dreamlike state, walked to the back of the ship like a zombie, all her muscles slack and face emotionless. She knew which drawer to open and which capsule to take, she didn't even had to finger the small inscription on the side of the grey-white oval shape to know she had the right one in her hand. Without a thought or hesitation, she pressed the top part of the capsule and threw the thing on the ground in front of herself, making its contents return to their original size in a puff of smoke. Bulma didn't blink when the sting of the smoke reached her eyes, she didn't wait for its thickness to clear before stepping beside the large refrigerator like object. Her fingers pressed the small buttons as she set the machine and a door swished open, the aseptic smell of the interior reaching her nose, without a second to waste she stepped inside and heard the door close behind her, locking itself. The last Earthling allowed herself a second of doubt as a thick cold liquid began filling the metallic interior. Bulma felt a tremor of fear as she felt the liquid make its way over her head, a beginning of panic when she realised she couldn't bring herself to breath in the disgustingly gluey liquid. Opening her eyes in the weird water she forced herself to calm down, this was her salvation; if she didn't breathe the liquid in she would drown. Closing her eyes once again and letting out the last oxygen she had in her lungs, Bulma opened her mouth slightly and swallowed the liquid feeling its coldness making its way inside her stomach. Before panic could claim her again she breathed the thick cold water letting it infiltrate her lungs, her body began rocking with spasms as her instinct went into overdrive, reacting heavily to the fact of breathing water instead of air. All movements suddenly slowed as she felt as if strong arms circled her body, she felt all limbs go limp and her mind grew heavy with sleep. The anaesthetic in the liquid, she faintly thought, was taking effect. Barely a second after falling asleep, the thick liquid turned into the coldest ice, ensuring that nothing would ever trouble the beauty that lay in a frozen immobility, asleep forever. It would take several years for someone to find the ship and its precious cargo.


	3. The end of hope, part 3

Egreval hovered near the ship, his head cocked to a side as he tried once again to find an opening of some sort. Standing straight he glared at the white surface of the archaic space ship before bending his incredible frame once more yellow eyes trying in vain to find something, wanting for the weird alien metal to show him it's secret.

"Hey Egreval man, I think I found something" said a voice in the scouter that graced Egreval's right ear and eye, plunging a part of his vision in sickening green. Letting out a breathless sigh, the grey-scaled alien activated his hoverjet feeling annoyed that Rytniss had found something. It was he after all who had found the ship. The bastard probably wanted to steal the glory of this unusual ship from him. As he rounded the ship he found Rytniss hovering with his helmeted head close to the white metal that made the ship's outer shell. Without a word Egreval, made his way over to the black clad alien.

"Look at this man!" Said Rytniss after seeing the grey man hovering toward him. Rytniss moved slowly aside, revealing a tiny board with buttons. Egreval, forgetting instantly all his jealous thoughts, bent down to take a closer look at the board. Inspecting around the board he saw a hair-thin circular slit.

"You're lucky you can survive in space, you know" Said Rytniss "with this blasted helmet I can't even see what's written on the damn board!"

"Well, even if you didn't need the helmet, you wouldn't have understood a word that's written here." Whispered Egreval as his yellow eyes stared unblinking at the words. "It's written in a language that our computer can't even decipher."

Rubbing his hand over his face, he and Rytniss tried to understand what stood in front of them.

"Well, since I haven't found any door to this spaceship, my guess is that this board is the key to opening some sort of door."

Rytniss made a face at Egreval before returning his green eyes to the board.

"You know man, I had figured that much out!"

"Oh, the hell with it!" Said Rytniss after wasting another minute inspecting the board; he raised his hand and pushed the biggest button. Both men looked at each other waiting, almost dreading for something to happen.

A door slowly hissed open revealing for the first time the dark interior of the space ship.

Turning his scouter off, Egreval entered the ship, followed close by Rytniss. The interior was rather small and it was designed like nothing Egreval had ever seen. On his right, he could see a large pilot seat with the navigation console; walking to it he bent down taking a closer look at the symbols and numerous screens that were strewn across the console. As he was about to touch one of the screens he felt something bump against the side of his head. Turning swiftly around he saw a small grey cylindrical object. Taking the hovering object in his hand to take a closer look he realised that there was hundreds of those objects floating in the gravity less ship. Not far from him, Egreval saw that Rytniss had a same cylindrical object in his hand sticking it to his helmet in a vain attempt to take a closer look. Behind Rytniss idiotic form, Egreval's yellow eyes saw a soft blue light. Intrigued, he absentmindedly put the little object in one of his pouch strapped to his belt and began hovering toward the end of the ship, gently pushing the hovering objects out of his way as he did so.

" Be careful with those for all we know they could be bombs of some sorts."

There it was, right in front of him. Egreval couldn't help but grimace as he put his hand on its surface. He could take cold temperature but this was beyond cold it felt so cold to his touch that he felt his hand burning as he searched for anything on it's dark surface. Finding nothing he bent down to check where the blue light was coming from. He smiled slowly, another tiny board. The blue light came from behind it, lighting in blue the hair thin slits around each small buttons. Egreval stood up and took another look at the glassy surface. He was about to make a quick tour of the thing when he heard Rytniss talking softly to himself.

"Hummm, if I'm not mistaken, and I'm rarely am… if I understand the configurations of this console correctly this is…" He trailed off as one of his gloved fingers pushed one switch that stood separated on the wall. Egreval was about to stop Rytniss from touching the switch when the inside was suddenly blasted with light. Both men let out a yell of surprise as they covered there eyes from the sudden glare, Egreval achieved it, Rytniss on the other hand slapped his hands on the helmet while he squeezed his eyes shut.

Egreval opened one eye slowly checking over Rytniss to see if he was alright, he frowned as he opened his other eye staring at the alien, he had both eyes wide open, his mouth equally open as he seemed to be enthralled by something that was behind himself. Frowning he turned around. His eyes went wide as he slowly went down to his knees finding his legs too weak to support his tall frame.

An angel, no a goddess stood in front of him. Egreval could only stared at the female, he felt paralysed, unable to think, and even his heart in his chest seemed to have stop beating. Nothing stirred; the universe had fallen silent as his eyes drowned in the sight of her. Never in his life had he ever saw something as beautiful like this woman. It was like a revelation, he kneeled on the ground transfixed feeling his heart constrict in his chest as though a hand had put his fingers around it stilling it's beating. She stood inside a container filled with liquid that had long ago frozen over, stilling her frail floating form forever. Immobile long blue hair floated around her exquisite head like an aura of unimaginable power. Her head cocked slightly to a side showed features that seemed to have been carved out of light blue marble. Her eyes were closed as if sleeping and her mouth was open slightly revealing full lips. An air of infinite sadness seemed to glow around her face as if she had been cursed to be forever in throes of an eternal melancholy, her tiny arms were limp and her small feet were visible under a forever flowing skirt hiding her legs from Egreval's unbelieving eyes. A light inside the container made the ice glow in a blue mist making it look as if the frozen woman glowed with an inside light, casting her aura around herself like a wave of blue water.

A hand falling on his shoulder shocked him awake, blinking a few times he turned his head toward Rytniss breaking for the first time his connection with the frozen angel. Egreval blinked in surprise upon seeing his teammate with concern painted all over his features.

"What?" He asked. Rytniss frowned and answered in a dubious voice.

"I don't know! I've been trying to wake you for like an hour man! You looked like as if you weren't there anymore, you know, the lights are on but nobody's home!"

Egreval frown deepen as he shrugged the hand off of his shoulder. Taking another look at the woman he than turned to Rytniss.

" I'm not sure myself about what happen. I just looked at her and…" He trailed off.

Rytniss looked behind him staring wistfully at the woman. 'Yeah, she sure his something!" Turning his head toward Egreval he went on. "But, I've never seen an alien like her before, you know what am saying? I wonder what happen? Why is she frozen, you know? How come our computer doesn't say anything about her? Is it possible Emperor Frieza never encountered this race before? What is she doing in this dead solar system anyway?

Starting to get annoyed at the questions Rytniss kept spouting, Egreval raised a hand stilling the words from the alien's mouth instantly.

"I don't know what she is but" He stop talking to look at the woman before continuing. "She look like the Saiya-jins you remember them? She definitely don't have their usual colourings but as for the rest, she resemble them."

Rytniss didn't say anything as his eyes trailed down on the woman's shape.

"You're right!

'Come on Rytniss, lets haul this ship in ours, I'm sure our Lord will like this surprise.''


	4. The end of hope, part 4

Softness, chilly, but so comfortable, velvety feeling under her and over her; a cocoon? Tired, exhaustion, fragile consciousness fading into sweet black oblivion.

Voices, hissing near. Can't make out words. Light, too much light. Something cold on cheeks, thin fingers run weakly on it's small cold surface, disappearing into her hair. Something doesn't feel right, the voices, the feelings, something is not right. The answer just on the brink of consciousness, no don't want to know. No! Comforting sweet darkness, yes.

Silence, complete and utter silence. Taking a deep intake of air to fill her lungs, she grinned softly, feeling like she hadn't been able to that for a very long time. Letting out the air in a long contented sigh, Bulma snuggled weakly onto the too soft mattress, liking the velvety feeling of all the heavy sheets over her and under her. She didn't want to wake any further than she was; she felt numb, comfortable and tired. She felt like the only place she wanted to be, and the only thing she wanted to do, was here and this. This bed and sleep. Sleep forever like all the princesses of her childhood fairy tales, to be awakened by princes escaping reality on their white horses. Another sigh escaped her lips as she wandered around the darkness of her mind, not thinking, only the exquisite feeling of being. There is light beyond the darkness, she can see it, and she can go to it. But there is also something else in the light, there is a knowledge there she desperately doesn't want to seek out. She turns her back to it, staring into the darkness ahead. Sleep, yes, sleep. She could do that.

Her eyes shot open; they were round as flying saucers and staring directly at the high white ceiling. Bulma sat up in a flash and regretted it immensely when the room lurched violently to a side, she gasped and put both hands on her head trying to keep the disorientation and dizziness she felt under a semblance of control. Opening her clouded, groggy blue eyes, Bulma faintly let her gaze wander around the room she was in.

She didn't remember coming in this sickly white room, nothing here felt familiar at all. She sat on a completely white, plush bed, instruments and machines lay all around her, and her questioning eyes studied their appearances for a while as her scientific mind pondered their functioning and utility. Her still clouded mind finally registered that the tubes and wires ran from the machines to her body and head. Bulma understood with a visible start that she was connected to several machines that she had never seen before and couldn't even understand what they were suppose to do. To her growing horror, her fingers closed around a tube that was connected to her left temple. Her breathing quickened as she began pawing her body franticly, her mind overfilling itself with questions, why was she here? Why were there tubes and needles everywhere on her body? What was this strange room? A wave of dizziness hit her full force, making her grimace under its assault. Ceasing all movement, the young woman tried to calm the waves of complete vertigo that threatened to make her spill out the contents of her stomach. Her chest rose and fell in a quickened pace as she felt a growing uneasiness spread inside her like a dry wood fire. Keeping the fits of giddiness under control, Bulma began taking the tubes and needles off of her body in an increasing speed, saving the needle in her head for the end. With tears blurring her vision she fastened her hand on the last tube, and with a small cry of pain, tore it off her head, feeling a warm trickle of blood leaking on the side of her face. Bulma's head turned swiftly to her right when one of the machines began screaming. She stared at the blood-tinted needle in her hand then at the machine, suddenly wishing it to stop its shrill noise. The panicking young woman was about to bash the machine to smithereens when a door she hadn't even noticed before hissed open.

Every thought and feeling fled from Bulma's mind. She felt rooted to the bed. She didn't feel anything as she stared at the door opening in slow motion, revealing a being she knew came from a nightmare. Everything around her went black except for the grim apparition; a being of imposing height, limbs and armour of sickly pale colours, a large nightmarish horned head with a sickening smile of superiority plastered on its lizards face as its eyes stared at her. Bulma felt like everything was going in slow motion. She couldn't believe it, where was she? What had happened? Who was this monster that felt so terribly familiar? Her mind went suddenly blank, a tirade of questions elapsing into silence as everything stopped. Then, everything came back to her with all the subtlety of a broken dam, physically bending her over under the weight of the images, feelings and faces that came rushing back to her mind's eye. Bulma felt like she was drowning as powerful feelings of utter despair and pain beyond imagination flooded back to the surface, like an over flowing sewer, grief so powerful for her friends, her family…her world, that tears were ridiculously inadequate. A brilliant image of the last moment of her world flashed before her, tearing a hoarse, broken complaint from her throat. Opening her eyes wide in panic, she saw with a growing hysteria that the monster was coming for her. In a desperate attempt to get away from this vile creature, Bulma stumbled out of the bed and came crashing down on the cold white floor when she found her legs too weak to support her. She had to get away, to flee, had to… With desperate moans and clutching hands, the young woman managed to crawl to a far corner, turning around as she sat against the wall so she could face her doom. Her mind, a mad frenzy of jumbled thoughts, tried desperately to grasp at something that would make sense that would explain it all.

_No, it can't be, she gasped and trembled, no, it's a hallucination! No, oh Kami no! A nightmare, it can't, they… they had left I, I saw them! They thought all terr...Terran dead! I can't be here with, with… please oh please don't let me be here with…_" Her mind couldn't even name her nemesis as a paralysing dread spread in her arms and legs, leaving her completely defenceless in front of the advancing monster. Hissed chuckling from the beast managed to get passed her catatonic ears to reach her mind as it's incredible frame bent down slowly, deliberately, thriving as his eyes trailed down on her quivering form, her beautiful features morphed into a mask of absolute terror.

"No!" A pathetic weak little word, so unfit for all the terror she felt, escaped her mouth. Bulma felt a growing darkness tugging at her consciousness as she desperately cringed away from the monster, like a drowning victim she grasped at the darkness like a life jacket and with all her might pulled herself in it. The last thing coherent for the crestfallen woman as she spiralled down in the inky nothingness that would end it all, was a shadow engulfing her, and her own voice letting out a deep, piercing scream. Darkness consumed her and even in her unconscious state she couldn't escape the memories that were suddenly wrenched free.


	5. The end of hope, part 5

Frieza, Emperor of the universe, sat comfortably on his Tanhamat marble throne. He had liked this silver and black marble so much that he had declared the marble his. No one in the universe was allow to have this exquisite marble in their possession, not even the planet where the mineral was extract was allow to keep it. It was his prerogative after all. He could do what he wished with everything he wished in _his_ universe. His. It never ceased to bring a smile to his ruby lips, his universe, his planets, his slaves...they were all his slaves, all of them. He felt incredible pleasure and glee with thoughts like these, to think that if he wanted he could order the destruction of any planets, it was so intoxicating to know that only one word from his lips meant death or salvation. Power was such an addictive drug and Emperor Frieza never tired of it.

Today had been a good day, after many days of complete ignorance, he have had a clue. A simple look of terror on this strange female's face had given him the clue he needed, to know what she was, who she was. How strange it had been to know that a creature such as her existed in his universe without his knowledge! How curious and irritating. After several generations of his people's domination, how was it possible to find some things and species he didn't know of? How...exciting. It made him wonder about all the things that manage to slip passes his incredible intellect. It appears that a trip to the Guild of telepath seemed due, what else lurked hidden in his fief?

''It appear, my lord, that the female knows of your superior race.''

Frieza, not even deigning a look to his mind altered second in command, answered dryly. ''You have such a capacity to state the obvious Zarbon'' Closing the hovering crystal screen that showed the recorded images of the female earlier first waking, he turned his head to his tall and handsome servant ''Leave the thinking to me and satisfy yourself with obeying my orders. Tell my scientists to prepare my father, I desire to speak with him on this particular subject.''

''Yes my lord'' Not wanting to displease his master, Zarbon immediately complied. A mental sharp order was sent to the scientist aboard the ship. ''Your orders are being carried my sovereign, they are preparing your superior father as we speak.''

Without a word, he activated his suspensor chair and left the Throne room to his father's enclave. Frieza thought about his father and the day when he had told him he was too young to rule, unfit to rule, that there were still too many things he needed to teach his youngest son. For once, his foolish father had been right. He still needed the old beast. But it was he who ruled now, not his father!

The small and pristine emperor stopped his suspensor chair in front of his father's enclave. A smirk graced his red lips as he was scanned before entering the enclave. He was the only one who could enter this place, except a few chosen scientists who had initially worked on his father, he had to make sure no one could free his father from his cruel fate, he guessed that a few fouls were still loyal to his old beast. Cold was to remain with him, what would he do without his father's counsel after all? He chuckled grimly at his own sarcasm as the door swished open. The room he entered was completely bare. Frieza hated unnecessary items to be strewn across his ship. The only thing visible was a long cylindrical glass recipient sitting on an intricate pedestal in the exact center of the round room. Leaving his suspensor chair, Frieza touched his palm on the scanner and a humming was heard as the recipient was activated.

''Good Morning Father! I take it you slept well?'' Frieza's voice was cheerful.

A horned head floated up inside, stopping at eyes level with the sovereign. The head had been severed at the beginning of the neck and still, the eyes that looked at Frieza, were awake and conscious. Despite the slight deformation made by the liquid, hatred and disgust were clearly visible in Cold's eyes. Several wires and tubes linked the floating head to the base of the recipient keeping it alive and under control. A cavernous voice was heard inside the chamber even if ex emperor Cold's lips didn't move.

''What is it that you which to know, _son_?'' The last word emphasized as the eyes glared at the form of his offspring.

''Ah, glad to know you are in a good mood'' He chuckled'' I need your insight father, my men have discovered an unregistered ship in a dead galaxy. We share the surprise I see! It seems we are not appraised about everything hum, but it is not all. They found a female in a cryogenic chamber inside it'' Frieza stopped talking to glance at his father's head. He started again to pace in front of the recipient as he went on.

'' But what I find the most intriguing, is that I have never seen a creature like her, no one has never seen the likes of her as a matter of fact. Not even our database has been able to come to a decent conclusion. It seems like her kind never existed. I do not know why father, but I feel you may have the answer. For it was made very clear to me that she knows who we are. The female knows of us and, yet I know nothing of her.'' He turned toward his chair to take the crystal screen. ''I do not like not knowing, as you know.'' Returning to the pedestal. He watched his father intently as he stared at the screen, seeing the female taking the needles that had sustained her body off of her. Frieza was now completely sure his father knew of her kind. Just by the way his eyes changed Frieza knew.

''As you see, the way she reacted when an Imperial guard entered her cell.'' He gently said. ''The horror that's painted all over her face...tell me father, who is she! It was not a question.''

Cold didn't answer for a few seconds analyzing data and information in his computerized brain. The computer part of him felt nothing and gathered info on what his master wanted to know. The Tsiru-jins part of him who was improbably still alive felt a remnant of fear, he stopped on the emotion turning it in his mind, relishing it, he had so few that any emotions felt welcome. Fear, why did he fear this Terran? The sight of the race he had thought destroyed long ago brought along memories of the time where he was the Emperor, when his scientist had warned him about the potential of this race...they could be so much more. Always the pragmatic one, Cold had destroyed their home world and all Terrans on it. He had the political power to do so and he had made sure the threat was terminated. But now as he watch the woman, he wondered if there was more of them out there, they had to be eliminated.

''You are to kill her.'' His cavernous voice reverberated in the room.

Frieza narrowed his eyes. ''You should remember who you are and refrain from giving orders to me, this time is over as you should know. Now tell me who she is!'' His voice remained quiet but held deadliness to it.

''She is of the Terran race.''

Frieza turned the name over in his mind, ''_Terran_'. A piece of the puzzle had found its place, finally. ''Tell me why we do not have anything on this _Terran'_' His voice stronger now held all the authority of the emperor.

'' Her planet 'Terre' has been destroyed under my hand, all traces of their existence has been erased from all encyclopedias, computers, data disc...'' Frieza interrupted cold.

''I get the point, thank you. What I wish to know is why.'' Frieza was convinced he'd like the answer to this one.

''Her race was a treat, she is a treat, she is to be eliminate for the good of your empire''

Emperor Frieza looked at his father, if the old beast wasn't just a computer he would have thought he was making a joke. He let out a quick and loud laugh.

''A treat? This pathetically fragile thing? Father, please I could crush her without even flexing a limb.''

''The strength of this race does not rest in their physical capacities. You should not underestimate her.''

Frieza narrowed his eyes at her petite form on the crystal screen, now he was positively intrigued.

''Really?'' He turned around and left the room without a backward glance. _Let's see what the Terran can do._


	6. The end of hope, part 6

Bulma sat in her lavish room. Her dull almost lifeless eyes stared unseeing at the vastness of space through the large space window. Not even the awe-inspiring sight of a purple and pink nebula could bring a reaction out of her. What was the point? Nothing had meaning anymore, nothing held a depth, everything was lined with the horror that her life had become.

How long has it been? One year now? One endless year of being a slave to Frieza...One year of living a life that wasn't hers anymore, one year of wishing to die every second she could get. She let out a breathless sigh, she couldn't even cry anymore. Tears meant nothing in her life. Tears couldn't make her feel better. They couldn't alleviate her worries. Bulma emotionlessly thought of all the times she had cried when her life was nothing but peaches and cream on earth. Back then she didn't really knew how life could turn bad in a blink of an eye, in a sick twist of fate. She blinked slowly as she thought about her past life, when her worst trouble was being dumped by one of her numerous boy friends, if only she could go back. Wishes were another meaningless feature of her past life. Wishes never come true, least not in the hell that was her life.

One year ago, she had stupidly fallen into Cold's son trap, the only thing she knew was that she had awoken after 200 years of cryogenic sleep only to find herself in the arms of her worst enemy, her worst nightmare. But it wasn't a nightmare, it was her reality and, the only thing clear in her chaotic mind was that she had to break free. She had to keep her promise to her father and survive. So when she awoke the second time and found herself in a holding cell, she did the only thing she could do, she used her brain to try an escape and, she almost did. Puzzles after puzzles, she had solved them all. One thing was on her mind, freedom and she would stop at nothing, and she would be free! Like a shadow, she had moved through the ship opening doors, hacking computers, disabling alarms and comeyes, using everything she could find to open panels and ventilations traps, she moved through wires filled metallic floor, she built weapons from scratch, in the end she had showed Frieza exactly what he had wanted to know. She had showed him just how capable she was, she had showed him just how clever she was, how an inestimable addition she would be to him.

In the end, the crestfallen human woman had been brought in front of the deceptively small Emperor Frieza. He had stood over her in his flawless form smiling down at her. Bulma had seen the mouth of hell through his eyes. The only thing in her mind was the strong wish to wake from this nightmare that was too horrible to be reality. How fervently she hoped to die in this moment, he certainly would finish the work Cold had started, he would kill her and she would be reunited with her loved ones. But faith was to be yet again cruel to her.

Frieza had bent down and sat on the ground near her sprawled body and told her in a deceptively warm voice that he needed her help. He needed one contraption from her and he would set her free. As simple as that. One deadly invention and he would set her free. Bulma, wishing it to be true wishing it so much, needing it desperately to prevent her mind from spiraling down in madness, had believed him.

She had worked feverishly on a headband he had devised in his mind. It was a vague insubstantial idea of him, she was to make it concrete and, for weeks she pushed her mind to build the perfect small device that would enslave the wearer forever. Frieza wanted to control his unwilling prisoners, he couldn't allow disobedience, and he couldn't allow his prisoner to commit suicide on him. Death was his privilege to give. The headband Frieza had dreamt about would completely control the unfortunate wearer, giving the poor soul the liberty to do as he wished, as long as it was according to the master's plan. An ever-ready injection of nano-bots would ensure that even death was impossible. The wearer would be his forever. Bulma created the headband, adding everything Frieza was asking. She didn't thought about the unfortunate beings that would wear this little death around their head, she only thought of her freedom. To think about the ones she was unwillingly enslaving would cost her, her sanity. The mind is an incredible machine when it comes to protect itself. Eventually the headband was finished and needed to be put to the test and Bulma wanting only one thing, her promised freedom, assured the Emperor that the headband would work. Frieza had smirked and said he had complete faith in her ability. The headband would work without a doubt. Taking the device from her hand he had looked at it, visibly thrilled with her work, raising his hand he had caressed her cheek saying she had kept her promise and so would he. Letting out the breath she had been keeping, she had closed her eyes and felt tears of relief sting her eyes. Suddenly she had felt something cold on her forehead and heard a soft dooming click as the coldness encircled her skull. She had slowly opened her eyes only to stare in the purple evil eyes of Frieza, with her heart beating wildly in her chest, she had slowly raised trembling hands to her head and, against her hopes, had come in contact with what she had believed would be her dearly paid freedom. Frieza had made her the maker of her own demise. For the first and last time, she had lost it, screaming insanities, physically attacking the Emperor and, had felt the power of her own creation. Thunder had rolled in her head and lightning had flashed in her eyes, in a second she was subdued, she had fell lifeless to the ground, all wishes to kill the emperor gone, replaced by an emptiness waiting to be filled by her master's wishes.

Thus had been her life ever since. She was Frieza's prized Deathmaker, as he had baptized her himself, congratulating himself for the name. For a year, she had built weapons for his fleet. She had design new and improved starship with shields of almost endless power and created destruction beyond belief. Her father would have been so ashamed.

The thin headband she constantly wore around her head only visible on her forehead like a satiric tiara kept her in check and insure she did everything she was asked. And she did, and each time, she lost a bit of herself. Becoming more and more dark and dead inside. Her once beautiful life fill eyes and glowing face had turned into a mask of subdued desperation.

Standing up from her blood red plush couch, she walked slowly, barely feeling the sensual feel of the cyan blue dress she wore on her skin, she went to the space window and let her mind be free as her gaze lost itself in the vastness of space. Her next order would come soon enough.


	7. The end of hope, part 7

Reethnam Shaonareem wasn't fond of this sort of place; too small, not enough light, the exits were too few and that was without counting the hidden one he had found by sensing a disturbance in the air. Too many people also, too many people intoxicated by heady liquid. Some might think that one was safe in a crowd that the numbers meant a measure of safety, but Reethnam knew better. Maybe it was the fact that he was a mercenary killer and had been one all his life, but killing someone in a crowd was a novice job. So easy to pinch a precise nerve, paralysing the unsuspecting victim, to pick the fallen body and pretend the old buddy had indulged too much Arkdam Liquor, and to kill under the unknowing look of a passer-by. People believed anything you wished them to believe if you knew how to trick their senses.

Reethnam sat, his back against the wall and though his drunken look and relaxed demeanour blended perfectly in the dark and dusty Spaceport Bar, the man under the pretence was dead sober and alert. Even if his arm swayed drunkenly as he dipped his rubbery lips in his glass of Arkdam Liquor, barely tasting the hot alcohol on his tongue, his predatory red gaze never once missed a beat of the action around him. Spaceport Bars weren't the safest places on a planet but it sure was the safest place to be for a mercenary like himself, to hide unnoticed in its colourful crowd. Aliens of all sorts sat on dirty cushions at low tables strewn carelessly and tastelessly across the room, beautiful long legged waitresses with silvery skin walked around the room with plateaus of intoxicating beverages, serving the already tipsy customers. In places like this, no one would notice a lone Dom Naju, sitting in a darkened corner, minding his own business. These were the reasons why Reethnam choose such places. Anonymity. In a room full of different races, nothing seemed too out of place.

The Dom Naju looked toward the exit, his rubbery black face frowning slightly when he failed to see his son.

"_Where is he now?"_ Thought Reethnam. He should have returned from his job half an hour ago! Tyam always liked to play around but he was never this late. He wasn't too worried though; his son was too strong to have trouble with a mere murderer, even an infamous one. The tall man felt his heart swell with pride at the thought of his son's strength and cunning mind. No one, except the Imperial family, was his equal in strength and combat.

Reethnam had always referred to Tyam as his son, he had taken, a long time ago, the infant under his wing and trained and raised him as he would have any offspring of his own. They didn't share the same blood, they didn't even share a thin resemblance in species, and yet, being the only family he remembered, Tyam had always called him father. Being as different as night and day, the youngster had always known he had been adopted and Reethnam had never once lied about his son's ancestry. What would have been the point anyway? And by knowing what he was, Tyam could better protect himself, from himself first, and from the Emperor who would do everything in his power to kill Tyam if he knew of his existence.

As Reethnam's eyes darted around the dusty smelly room, his ears suddenly picked on a twist in a nearby conversation. Pretending to be nodding off in a drunken slumber, he concentrated on hearing every word.

An odd couple of vaguely humanoid form chatted away, in hushed whispers, about the Death Maker, the empire's most recent nightmare. Ever since this surprising new addition to the Lord Frieza's army, the people had new reasons to fear and hate their emperor. A shiver of hate and disgust ran up the Dom Naju's spiked back as he thought about the Maker's great appearance; a plague had been unleashed on Yssoural , a planet that was rumoured to have been plotting against the emperor for many years. What had started as a simple flu of pandemic proportion, soon turned into a nightmare. The flu was in fact the first symptom of a more deadlier disease; a disease which made your internal organs to die. A necrosis. Death was painful, and slow, every remedies tried were found useless.

Reethnam gritted his sharp teeth, his whole being trembling with hate for this faceless creature. If only he had one opportunity, he'd tried his all to rid the universe of its presence. About the emperor, it was hopeless to try and do anything, but about this disgusting being, he would certainly die to try and kill it.

Suddenly, a shadow fell on Reethnam shocking him out of his thoughts, he barely had time to grasp the thin handle of the Skinknife when the shadow became a man looking very much like himself, minus the a sickeningly content look on the face. Letting out an exasperated breath, and returning the Skinknife to the safety of his forearm, Reethnam sent a scolding stare at his son.

"Satisfied with having surprised me, yet again, son? Reethnam asked in their whimsical special language they used whenever they were in public.

A smirk appeared on the rubbery lips of Tyam as he sat at the table beside his father ,back against the wall.» Always father, nothing is more satisfying than showing the master he has been mastered." Grabbing Reethnam's glass, Tyam took one long gulp.

The Dom Naju snorted as he watched his son put the glass back in front of him.

"As if you could feel proud of being the better of an old retired mercenary like myself"

Tyam only smiled at that. Sitting back and taking a whiff of the greenish liquid in the glass, Reethnam took a second to look at his son. Again, not a scratch on him.

"So… everything went smoothly I presume?" He asked the question, even if he knew the answer .

"As if you had any doubt father!" A look of childish annoyance crossed on his son's dark face "There is no satisfaction to be retrieve in killing such a weakling" Tyam snorted loudly. "And this one was supposed to be a challenge?" The youngster opened his long hooded cloak to grab something he then threw on the table. Reethnam snatch the object and after a quick look, put it in his own dark cloak.

"This man from the planet Ro'adym is a… was a renown murderer. All mercenaries who went after him to get the bounty on his head met a gruesome death," The older man rubbed his hand on his horned skull. "I heard he was particularly talented with small knifes he called shivs."

Tyam's red gaze swept the vast room as his hand absentmindedly fingered the Erable wood pattern of the table "I have to admit father that he had a good technique" He shrugged "he was even fast for a Ro'adym. But he was no match for me."

Reethnam looked at his son with pride in his eyes. Tyam pushed the sleeve of his cloak off of his arm to glimpse at the wrist computer he always wore. Tyam went on.

"He was empty of any chi and besides his eyes, which had been shined so that he could see in the dark, he was disappointingly weak."

A knowing smile spread on Reethnam's face as he patted his cloak where he had hidden the object his son had brought with him. "And you took his goggles as a souvenir?" He was met with the devilish smirk of his son.

"Well, that's the only way I'll ever remember terminating such a renowned murderer…what was his name again…Richard B. something?"

Reethnam shook his head as he chuckled. "You are impossible son!" Another smirk flashed on Tyam's face.

"And whose fault is that Father? You are the one who trained me after all!"

The young man stood up and stared down at his father.

"Besides you know the goggle goes to that Fry woman who hired me…she was very adamant about having them, she wanted her revenge, something about leaving her to die on some uncharted planet" Tyam looked at his wrist computer once again.

"Come on father, we have to go, I've played a bit too long with our puny murderer and now I'm running low on energy.

"Then we go, this is not a good place for you to begin the Change." Taking a few crystal disks out of his cloak's inside pocket, he dropped them on the table and followed his son out of the Spaceport Bar.

Tyam , closely followed by his father, barely had the time to put his booted feet on their ship's bridge when he felt a beginning of numbness on his skin; the Change was starting. The battery that gave the energy to hold the fake DNA of a Dom Naju together, had finally ran out of power. The numbness turned into a severe and alienating throbbing, and Tyam felt himself lose the capacity to move. He barely felt his father's hand on his back, pushing him inside as he himself forced his unresponsive legs to function. Luckily he still looked like a young Dom Naju when he heard the hiss of the ship's door closing behind them. Tyam tried to control the heavy shivers that ran up and down his skin as he heard his father's feet disappear in the distance, Reethnam never wasted time to take off after a job.

How Tyam hated the Change, after so many years of having done this changing , you thought he would have gotten used to it. But no, the feeling of DNA transformation was so unsettling and disagreeable that there was no way he'd get use to it. The worst part of the change began as he felt all of his skin turn into millions upon millions of tiny crawling insects, all trying to crawl away, leaving only the muscles behind. Rubbing his armour covered skin with a passion bordering on obsession to help rid himself of the unpleasant feeling, he let out a lengthy sigh as the creepy feeling dimmed. Luckily, the Change was short term and he soon saw his own skin beginning to return under the fast dissolving rubbery skin of a Dom Naju.

As his real self emerge under the false appearance, he felt the tingling sensation disappear entirely, leaving a completely different man under the ferocious black armour of a Dom Naju warrior.

Shrugging the last remnant of the unpleasant moment off, Tyam went to the front of the ship where he knew to find his father.

"This is the captain of the Quetzalcoatl, registration 784-5846, requesting permission to take off." The young man sitting in the co-pilot seat beside his father waited for the voice of the Spaceport space travel control to give them permission.

"This is control officer 36214, you are third in line for take-off. Approximate waiting time, 10 minutes planet time." The deep nasal voice grated on the comlink. Tyam watch his father fire the engine up as they settled for the take off. When all he could do was wait for the permission to leave, he saw his father turn his head slightly, stealing a quick glimpse.

"Feeling better now Tyam?"

The young man shrugged with a twinkle in his eyes "It's now a habit to look as ugly as you father, I wear your race's appearance like a second skin…which is what it is literally!"

"Good" said Reethnam "I'll never get used to seeing you go through the Change though, I don't know what it feels like, but it sure look rather unpleasant."

Tyam let out a silent breath of air. "You have no idea."

Both men were interrupted as the same nasal voice returned.

"This is control officer 36214, permission to take off, Have a safe journey"

The nasal voice had barely finished speaking as Reethnam was already lifting the ship in the magenta sky, they rapidly left the planet's atmosphere and were soon reaching the border of planetary space territory to enter the Empire's. Once in it, Reethnam looked at his son, silently asking if the trajectory computer had finish computing the information for their travel in hyper speed . After a brief nod, the old Dom Naju switched on the shields and began the sequence to engage the hyper speed reactor. He felt the familiar rush of energy the burst to hyper speed gave his body and after making sure they were safely on their way to their home, the young man unfastened his seatbelt and left the command of the space ship to his father.

Tyam crossed the familiar surrounding of the ship to reach his quarters. He had been living on the ship for as long as he could remember, and the old ,but undeniably faithful relic, felt like a second home to him. The first being Orcamed Dom, his father's home world. Tyam punched the code on the panel beside his quarters with a smirk on his face, waiting for the feminine computerized voice to greet him.

"Welcome, Master Tyam". The young man chuckled grimly to himself as the door swished open, he'd have to remove the "master" part someday. It used to flatter him when was younger but now it annoyed him more than anything. Beginning to dislike hearing the word because of the image it evoked, seeing himself at the head of an empire built in blood like the so-called Emperor Frieza who truly was nothing more than a dictator. The Emperor was the master while he was… merely a part of the emperor's universal chattel.

Tyam removed his dusty, dark cloak and threw it toward a chair beside the door, seeing with a slight frowning of brows how blue dust rose from the garment as it fell on the chair. Tapping his armour and seeing azure puffs of dust rising with his gentle taps, he realized he was covered in a thin layer of dusty sand. Rakaslan Secondus, the planet they'd just left, was too much a dry planet for his taste. He was caked with dust, every inch of exposed skin was mated with dirty blue sweat. Tyam then began to remove his black armour, systematically discarding the armour's several parts on the ground as he moved around the shady room. He felt dirty and wanted nothing more than to erase all trace of Rakaslan off of him .The thought of a hot, cleansing vapour on him felt like paradise right now. Stark naked, he trudged toward the cleansing unit and stepped inside.

Half an hour later, emerged a very clean Tyam, taking a towel from the door's handle, he wrapped it around his waist and went to the mirror situated in the far end of the room. Having two different appearances sometimes felt disconcerting, hell it even felt down right alienating. He used his Shifter to make his appearance change to the point where he looked like a Dom Naju and each time he changed back to his real self, he had to take a second to look at himself, just to make sure he was _truly _himself, Tyam. Shifting his appearance to that of a Dom Naju was a part of him in many ways for he'd hidden himself all his life, but he dreamed about a day where he wouldn't have to hide his true appearance anymore. His true self, to hide the fact that he was a Saiya-jin.

Not having to suppress his seemingly bottomless amounts of strength. He knew he was powerful, but since he had no memory of his life before coming to live with Reethnam, he had no idea whether all of the almost forgotten race was as powerful or if he was "different". Since he had to suppress his strength all the time, only to release it by tiny increments, he didn't know just how strong he truly was, how powerful he could be, and how he wished to find out. To see his full potential and he had a feeling in his gut that he was barely skimming the surface. But to release too much energy would be like starting a fire on the darkest night when one didn't want to be found. Frieza would sense it, just as he could sense it every time the dictator released his own incredible strength. Sometimes, the desire to fight mindlessly was so strong in him that he literally felt his blood boiling in his veins. He had to meditate often to remain in control of his chi, not to release it in a mad frenzy of destruction. Tyam wasn't sure why he felt like that, why he needed to fight; to kill. A part of him was almost scared to find out. At least he could quench his thirst with his bounty-hunting hobby. He didn't care about the money, nor about the small fame he was getting in the backwaters world in which his father took the jobs for him. All he wanted was to fight, to dim the fire of rage in his mind and all he craved for, was a challenge. To test himself.

A smirk graced his face as he gazed at himself. He was back. He didn't know how long he was to remain a Saiya-jin, but it felt good to see his own reflection, his own face. In contrast with the tall Dom Naju he was rather short; but a fact that had never bothered him in the least. His muscles corded body and strength clearly made up for the lack of height. Rubbing a hand in his short black hair he wondered, like he did so many times, why his hair seemed to stand on his head in short spikes all the time. His father said it was because he had too much chi in is body. Deep, black-smiling eyes stared back at him before he turned around to get dressed in a black fighting suit. Thinking a good virtual fight with several War-mechs would help rid him of his incommensurable energy for a short while.

Reethnam still sitting in his seat, waited for his son to finish training. He felt uneasy and tried as he might, he couldn't dissipate the dark cloud of doubts and fear that had settled over his head. He couldn't try to hide this from his perceptive son and, hell they would be making the universe a favor by accepting this new job. The Dom Naju let out a long sigh as he rubbed his hand on his head. Nothing good would come out of this job. By the gods, what they asked was almost impossible! But, then again with Tyam it might be possible. But at what costs?

Reethnam started as the object of his thought noisily sat down in the seat beside his. Tyam was about to sent an affectionate biting remark to his father when he noticed the downcast look of his features.

«Is something wrong father?» He frowned when the Dom Naju failed to answer «You almost look pale, which is not a small feat for you»

Reethnam, without humor, grinned softly and raised his hand to activate the Sand imager.

Truly puzzled and a bit curious he waited as the sand in the small glass container began to swirl in the windy light. Soon enough the sand swirling rapidly showed a cloaked face. Tyam getting closer tried in vain to discern the face of the sender. A distorted female voice was suddenly heard in the cockpit.

«Please, forgive the rudeness of my appearance, after hearing what I have to say you shall understand why I must remain incognito. As you know _Frieza_ has a new soldier in his army, the faceless Deathmaker. We, the Freedom Fighters, cannot allow this creature to create anymore destruction. It must be stopped! We have set our eyes on you for a long time, Dom Naju, and now is the time to act. You must find a way to kill the Deathmaker, we know you have the capacities to achieve...»

Tyam stared as the sand fell lifeless on the bottom of the now dark glass container. His heart had begun to beat furiously in his chest while watching the message, he could feel it, and this was the challenge he had been waiting for. The thirst to fight returned in a loud humming in his ears as he thought about the work he would soon do and he couldn't wait.

Not even waiting for his son predicable answer Reethnam with a sad look on his dark face began discussing possible strategies. They would need a perfect plan if they wanted to do the impossible and kill the being that no one knew anything about, who has never been seen. Who was right under Frieza's powerful hands?

End of chapter one.

In chapter 2, Tyam get the job of his life. He is to infiltrate the Emperor's army and reach the invisible Death Maker. His job; eliminate this new and formidable new threat.


End file.
